Crash Into Me
by Sweet Charity
Summary: AU. Formerly Got to See You. Ginny plays a dangerous game with her ex-step-sibling Draco who is devoted to her in every way but she wants, and a spell cast long ago makes her realize how shallow and empty she is each time he abandons her.
1. I'm So Lost For You

Disclaimer: This AU idea came to me as I sat there watching Cruel Intentions and playing Clue. Hate me for it; I think it's rather interesting, actually. 

_Lost for you, I'm so lost for you_

   I felt his body shift next to mine and although his room was large and gloomy, I almost felt safe. His room was horrifyingly gargantuan, tawdry in its size, even. It was probably larger than my stepmother's, although she was the dowager widow of the house.

  It was strange how I had come to stay here. Undoubtedly my stepmother was a gold digger, but she had already been wealthy by the time she married my father.

  I was not my father's natural child, although upon his adopting me, I had been Charmed to look so. I had been adopted at the tender age of two. I had already been weaned, at least, so we assumed I was two. My family was large and impoverished, and my parents had been destroyed by the last of the Dark Lord's supporters. The Great War of the Powers cleared the names of the wrongly accused and brought many of the guilty to justice. I know many details of my birth family, knowing that the family had been split between William and Charles: Bill, Percival and Ron had stayed in our hometown and lived with a family that had a son elder than my twin brothers who looked up to William and Percival. Charles, Fred and George had moved to Surrey to live with a younger witch that had lost her husband to the war that had taken our parents' lives. 

   The six brothers visited very often, meeting in London every time the eldest boys had to come or go to Hogwarts, or perhaps to shop. The young witch who cared for my more mischievous brothers was a very close friend of the recently cleared Sirius Black, who had the full custody of our hero, Harry Potter, so all six were also in close contact with him, as well.

  The similarities between my brothers' new parents were far and few in between. They were good; hardworking people, and they loved boys. However, Bella Figg did not know how to raise a girl. She barely was one herself. 

   I was soon adopted by Maxwell Rockford, a dashing auburn-haired young man who had gone to school with my parents and had wanted a ward. However, his sister, a Mrs. Tamaris Zabini, had not wanted to give up her beloved daughter Mignonette. 

  Mr. Zabini was not exactly pleased; Maxwell would have taken care of all her expenses, Mignonette would have been able to entertain her guests in his home, and she would have inherited his fortune. Maxwell was a self-made man; Tamaris had relied on her charm, beauty and skills of ill repute to land the twice-married Mr. Zabini, who already had an heir to his own fortune and was very displeased with the birth of Mignonette. However, Mr. Zabini was not going to sacrifice his reputation yet again and stayed married to my Aunt Tamaris, on the condition that she live in their home in Southern France and that Mignonette attend Beauxbatons, a French magic school infamous for its focus on ambition, charm and illusion—it was for the con artists and wealthy alike. 

  So Maxwell adopted me. His girlfriend at the time, a Miss Lilly Tankirson, was repulsed at the sight of me. She said I was mousy and would _never_ look beautiful. 

  At the time, she and Maxwell had been engaged for three years, and she wanted it to seem like I was their child. She had been a ravishing beauty I barely remembered, with her dark hair and twinkling green eyes. She snuck into Azkaban to purchase a bottle of Thestral's milk that would, with a strand of her hair and Maxwell's mixed in, make me permanently a perfect blend of the pair.

  The beauty was at a most deadly cost- Thestrals were winged horses considered unlucky by many wizards and had the power of invisibility. The sale and ownership of Thestrals was illegal, as they were all to remain in a reserve, controlled as to insure that the Muggles never got a sight of them. They weren't to be bred, either, to insure the problem would be short-lived. The decision to make these creatures extinct was made after it was discovered that the horses the Dark Lord's followers had been using (all of which had been killed in the Great Thestral Massacre in Bulgaria) were indeed Thestrals. The witch who sold Lilly the last remaining bottle of Thestral's milk had been caught trying to take all of the Death Eaters' Thestrals to the reserve, thus proving her connection to them.

  Upon their last visit to the orphanage I was housed at, Lilly snuck me away from Maxwell and the matron to feed me the bottle, knowing full well that the effects would slowly take place during the year after I had been given it. Although the pair had selected to keep my Christian name, Virginia Sabrina, they had nicknamed me Scarlet at a very young age.

  Maxwell discovered this after I had turned five, and the couple's six-year engagement, as well as their eight-year relationship, severed. Maxwell couldn't believe his beloved England had let a vapid gold digger purchase the last source of an illegal substance. He moved us to Moon's Mead, a small magical town on an island whose economy was based upon the business of the students at New Salem School of Sorcery and New Salem Preparatory School of Sorcery. When I was nine, he moved us back to England, London's Upper East Side to be exact, and that was where he met Mrs. Narcissa Grimaldi and her husband Jeremy

  I was ten when I had been taken over to the Grimaldi manor, which was actually in the countryside. Narcissa had been married once before, to a Lucius Malfoy, and she had a son, Draco, who lived in the lap of luxury, and a nephew, Ernie, who lived in a loft above the study and would be a professor. Her uncle Terrance was an annoying, perverted bachelor just ten years older than she. 

  Draco and Ernie were both a year my senior. Ernie was scrawny, but should he be allowed to play Quodpot, he would've been able to develop into a very dashing young man. Draco was already gorgeous and debonair, in a way that only the words All-American can possibly describe to a Muggle.

  Maxwell's housekeeper Mrs. White had dressed me, upon my guardian's request, in a dramatic dark gray woolen dress not very suitable for play. Maxwell intended for me to sit in a chair and be entertained by Ernie perhaps.

  I remember entering the gloomy dark gray marble foyer clutching Maxwell's hand as lightly as possible. We were soon greeted by a thin blonde woman wearing a cheery pink dress all too cheery for the smile that did not reach her eyes, a meek man dressed in a dark blue suit, a booming, plump bald man with a great mustache, dressed in an old-fashioned military uniform, a meek brunette boy who was even smaller than I, and a very handsome blonde boy. I had no idea how important these people would become. 

  Narcissa and Maxwell had seemed to agree that it would be strenuous to Draco to entertain a girl, so Narcissa harshly prompted Ernie to divert my attention for the course of my visit, but Draco, smiling what I would learn to be possessively, offered to do it himself. Narcissa smiled proudly as if he had just performed brain surgery on an adorable kitten.

  Draco took me by the hand and led me to the library and began to select one of Jeremy's many prized first edition Muggle books. He eventually chose Jack London's White Fang and commanded that I share a large wing chair with him whilst he read me the book.

  It was not long after I had met Draco and he had practically snapped a collar around my neck that he went to attend Hogwarts School.

  While Draco came home every holiday, it seemed as if Ernie only came home for the summer. Draco was doing well in his classes and was already tapped by some older students who had come to visit their younger siblings as a Quodpot star. Draco owled me every week, promising to sneak out to Hogsmeade to pick something up for me. And he usually kept his promise. Ernie owled me only on holidays, I suppose when he was most alone, and always told me how Draco always took such a keen interest in me. Ernie had told me once that the two had never been really suited for each other and that perhaps Draco saw me as the one terrific companion he had never had.

  I was miserable all alone in Maxwell's magnificent London townhouse. There were no children my age that hadn't been sent to boarding school, and all I had was my tutor and governess, Deana. Maxwell traveled to work, and when he was home, he visited Narcissa.

  My debut into Hogwarts was fairly uneventful, considering the years leading up to it had been. Draco had followed me around all summer and he'd insisted I do the same for him. He had told me all about his house, Ravenclaw. He said that living at Hogwarts was fairly uneventful; although he had his own small crowd he hung around.

  "I was almost sorted into Gryffindor. Slytherin, because of my dad. But the Hate said that I should use my intelligence for the good of the world and that the social scene in Ravenclaw was slightly more exclusive." I _had_ always thought of Draco as some sort of snoot. 

  It was then that an _explosion_ of noise burst into Ollivander's. I saw six four redheaded boys, a brunette boy, a blonde boy and a bushy-haired snoot enter the shop with a tall blonde woman, a shaggy-haired brunette man, and a smiling couple.

  "Fred, how is it you broke _another_ wand already?" The blonde woman asked without much scolding in her voice. She looked around the shop and her eyes passed over me, but then her head snapped back to inspect me further.

  Draco waved with a bright smile at the snoot, brunette boy and one of the redheads, and I assumed they were his classmates. Ollivander was making quite a show of wrapping my first wand.

  "I have the most distinct feeling, Miss Rockford, that this shan't be your last wand. Your brothers do have the expensive habit of breaking theirs." He said with a sickly smile. I wasn't puzzled at the mention of my brothers, although I hadn't seen them in quite some time; Maxwell wrote their families only on Christmas.

  "Rockford?" The blonde woman asked with a much more than polite interest. I nodded with a gracious smile.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She stepped forward with earnest. "You are indeed Virginia Sabrina Rockford, daughter of Maxwell Rockford?"

  "Yes, yes, so to speak…" I replied breathily, looking away as if to save myself from her repetitive inquiries. Remembering my training, however, I turned back to her and tilted my head with a large smile. "Although my friends are inclined to call me Scarlet."

  She smirked at me. "Yes, well…" And then her party roared out of the shop, leaving the shaggy-haired man scarce time to call to her.

  "London _is_ strange." Draco muttered as he began to lead me to other shops.

  My feet hurt. Narcissa's gift of high-heeled loafers was hardly practical as my surname was toward the end of the alphabet. I scowled as they skipped from Richards to Samford without so much as a breath between the two Hufflepuffs. Surely there was some mistake. Well, they'd _have_ to notice it when I was standing there all by myself when they'd finished the list.

  "Weasley, Virginia." Professor McGonagall called out. At the scarlet and gold table, the four redheaded boys from Ollivander's looked up with keen interest, and their friends stared at them confusedly. The professor looked around in similar puzzlement. I was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable, being the only first year unsorted and then this mess was coming down upon my head. She stared at me with a softened expression of irritation. "Are _you_ Virginia Weasley, my dear?"

  I shook my head fiercely. Her face twisted up only further.

  "Then what _do_ you answer to?" She asked as if I was having a childish identity crisis.

  "Scarlet Rockford, ma'am." I retorted as respectfully as I could. _As if_ I wouldn't answer to my given name, _regardless_ of whatever childish identity crisis I may have been having. Honestly, she must've thought I was some sort of bloody kid.

  But then again, at the time I had been.

  "Although," I began with a far more sugary tone, "My name is Virginia Sabrina Rockford."

  She looked back at her list. "I have a Virginia Sabrina Weasley."

  I tiptoed up to the professor, perfectly aware that a good thousand students were watching. "Perhaps this is part of a mix-up. I was adopted by Maxwell Rockford after the Great War of the Powers, does that help?"

  She nodded, sitting back to inspect me. "You certainly don't look like a Weasley, you know."

  Perhaps it was my hair. I noticed the four redheaded boys at the scarlet and gold table had _awfully_ bright hair. Mine, however, was a red so dark it could probably be called blood red. And their eyes all seemed so plain, greys and browns and whatnot, while mine were Lilly's dark blue. And while my skin was not tan as Max's had been, it certainly wasn't the translucent, freckled white as the boys at the table.

  She straightened up. "Rockford, Scarlet." She smiled at me as I made my way to the stool. The hat was placed upon my head and I almost heard stomachs growl.

  "What a mighty mess you have in here, Miss Scarlet." The hat remarked in a mockingly Southern American tone. "You have not much of a personality, you know. But that is because you haven't had a chance to develop one. You _are_ smart, and pretty at that. You'd do well in Slytherin."

  "What would be the point?" I asked it, hoping no one could notice at all that I was talking to this hat. "To marry one of those smirky, snooty bastards?"

 "And here I was insulting your lack of personality. I was _going_ to put you in Ravenclaw, but you're a bit too feisty. GRYFFINDOR."

  I must have been a terrible disappointment to Draco. But he applauded me with a satisfied smile as I went to sit down next to one of the redheaded twins.

  "So it seems as if you're a Weasley in disguise." He whispered with a soft smile. "They'll tell you we're a tricky lot, but…" He pinched my cheek fondly and it was odd—this strange affection did not put me off. It made me feel accepted, into a world that perhaps I had accidentally looked over. "I like you. I promise to stay out of your hair."

  "George, chumming up to the first years so quickly?" A loud black boy leered.

  "Shut up, Lee, it's only my sister." He grimaced and went to laughing with the boys.

  The younger Weasley glowered at me. "You're no Weasley."

  "Ron!" The twin called Fred exclaimed, flicking a tablespoon of mashed potatoes at him. "That's no way to treat a lady."

  The bushy-haired snoot from the shop flashed me a sickly sweet smile. "I'm Hermione." Snooty name. "I noticed you were talking to the hat. Nice chat, I'm presuming?"

  "Oh, shove it, Hermione." A darker girl said with a harsh tone. She smiled at me, though. "Ignore her. She has no manners. The hat and I had a nice talk last year, when he wanted to keep my sister and me in Ravenclaw together. I'm Parvati Patil. Is your father Maxwell Rockford?"

  I nodded politely. "Well, he really prefers to refer to me as his ward when we're in private; I'm more like the daughter he has when it is convenient or fashionable."

  Parvati laughed understandably. "Yes, my father's in the engineering business, and Padma and I are just his delightful little accessories. It's not quite the same, but—yes, I understand the concept."

  I smiled at her appreciatively. She never claimed to know exactly what I went through, or how it felt, she just compared a similar situation. Parvati Patil was someone I knew I was going to respect.

  "Parvati, do introduce us to your little first year." A blonde girl remarked almost haughtily.

  "She isn't _my_ first year, nor is she anyone else's, Lavender. This is Scarlet Rockford, of the London self-made restaurateur Maxwell Rockford's estate. She's the Weasleys' sister." Parvati introduced formally. "The blonde who has spontaneous outbursts of snootiness is actually the tower sweetheart, Lavender Brown." Parvati smiled a private little smile back to me and introduced each girl along the table with thoughtful details.

  "Parvati, I am _quite_ shocked. You haven't introduced your favorite person along this table." A brunette boy with disheveled—or rather, just shaggy—hair and glasses remarked, passing Lavender the roll basket upon her request.

  "Of course, how rude of me!" Parvati exclaimed brightly, then throwing off her hostess-with-the-mostess perkiness by rolling her eyes. "Scarlet, this is Harry Potter, your brother Ronald's friend. He's the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts in a hundred years, and he led our team to their first cup in years last year, and because of those games, we won the House Cup as well. Harry, this is Scarlet Rockford, of the London—"

  "Self-made restaurateur Maxwell Rockford's estate. She's the Weasleys' sister." Harry repeated with an almost dreamy gaze. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

  "Nice memorization skills, Harry." Lavender remarked, having another one of her spontaneous outbursts of snootiness. "Going to stalk Prince Wills next?"

  I smiled at Lavender appreciatively. Harry was rather…I didn't know how to put it. Draco had always paid attention to me, but he had always been suave with it. Harry seemed just as if he was trying to hard to be a romantic hero.

  "Well, he _is_ a bit young for you, Harry, but by all means, go ahead." I added to Lavender's remark and Hermione got all huffy all of a sudden.

  "He was _just_ trying to prove he was paying attention and didn't need to hear Parvati's incessant, repetitive chatter!" She almost screamed defensively.

  "If you ask me, someone's got a little bit of a crush." Parvati whispered to me.

  Looking from the flummoxed Harry to the stormily angry Hermione and back to Parvati again, I whispered back, "Good thing I didn't. Else she might've…dove at you or something."

  We both giggled and a rather handsome chap sitting near my brother Percival changed the subject to Quidditch.

  I spent the majority of the meal chatting up a storm. Every so often, I'd look back over to my brother Ronald, his snooty, prissy friend Hermione and Harry, and Harry would _always_ be looking at me. In the manner of Gilbert Blythe, he attempted to continue looking at me, as if he was some sort of bold romantic.

  For the sake of England, he was _only_ twelve.

  And I reiterate that my debut into Hogwarts was fairly uneventful.

  Three years had passed and Ronald still disliked me. George, my favorite brother by far, explained that although he, Fred, William and Charles took to me spectacularly, they hadn't quite taken to Ronald or Percival, although they saw the pair more frequently over the years. Hermione was still very defensive of Harry's social behavior and my friends' criticism of it.

  She was also very jealous of how quickly I had been accepted into their little circle. It wasn't actually little at all—it was practically all of the Gryffindor girls, second year and up, combined with all of the Ravenclaw girls, second year and up, and a few Hufflepuffs from good families or ones that had simply too sweet to ignore personalities. It wasn't very exclusive, and they always tried to include her, however, I do believe she hid it from both Harry and Ronald her desire to join us.

  In spite of the fact that we were in different houses and years, Draco still managed to go out of his way to walk me to class. I learned quickly that he didn't bother to restrict his charm to me or his group of friends, but teachers, prefects and the staff as well. He actually made the Head Girl blush once when he was walking me to class and quite naturally becoming late for his own. He was very pleased that I had made friends all around school, especially when being friends with Ravenclaws enabled me to be in his Common Room quite a bit.

  I was with a small group of my friends when Hermione decided to show me up a bit, talking in a very loud voice about a large wedding. We were all outdoors, enjoying the sunshine, shortly before spring holiday.

  Upon discovering that the talk of weddings did not startle me at all, she shoved a tabloid into my hands.

  "It looks as if you have a new mummy." She taunted.

  And to this I reacted rather calmly, causing her to storm off.

  Ronald sniffed. "Your mum has and always will be Molly Weasley." He said before going after her, his nose in the air.

  "Hope I'm invited to the wedding." Harry added with a charismatic wink that seemed false. It was, perhaps, because Harry, having no such daring charisma, could not possibly make it seem that he had. He, too, followed his friends.

  I finally opened the tabloid to read a small ditty about Maxwell proposing to the recently widowed _Narcissa Grimaldi_.

  I made a face. Narcissa was all right, I supposed. Not my first pick, of course. I would've loved for Bella Figg to be my 'new mummy', but she had lots of personality while Maxwell had none but his business charm.

  I was little aware of how my life would change simply because of these events, and although my triumphs and failures should've been splashed on the tabloid pages, they would only be behind thick closed doors.

To be continued…


	2. Sweet You Rock

Disclaimer: This AU idea came to me as I sat there watching Cruel Intentions and playing Clue. I have nothing to offer you so don't sue me please.

Sweet like candy to my soul  
Sweet you rock,  
And sweet you roll 

  It was undeniable. In his own shallow, masochistic and expensive way, Maxwell loved Narcissa. Although there was no doubt that she was charmed by this third husband, Narcissa did not necessarily seem as enamored with him. She was, however, completely in love with me.

  Or rather, the idea of me.

  "Scarlet, I shall finally have a daughter! And without the ever so tiresome side effects of actually birthing a child. I've never quite forgiven Draco for adding the poundage to my hips, but Maxwell says it makes me womanly." She chattered, laughing a bit to throw off the scent of conceit, but there was no concealing it.

  She was taking me shopping. How she hated robes, and was indeed very pleased that she didn't have to wear them in the privacy of her own home. And the robes she wore were not in the least traditional; she picked them up at Victoria's Secret and Fredrick's of Hollywood, the lace and silk items adding an air of mystery to her collagen-filled face. She meant for me to be the same way, and all of my clothes were from their collections as well, slinky, tight and sexy in a simple sort of way. Even the casual wear was intended to be enticing.

  She was insisting I wear a low-cut lace halter dress in a dark tan color, with almost transparent lining, to our first dinner as a 'family', as she had my hair twisted up seductively, letting a few tendrils fall. Over French manicures, she commented how although the Grimaldi Manor _was_ rather gloomy, she had my suite made up in the airiest room in the house, to indulge my crisp, fresh personality.

  "Although I don't think you'll be using your room very much." She admitted, winking at me _and_ my cleavage. "Tell me, darling, how _is_ Draco?"

  I tried not to scowl. Draco, of course, had managed to get his second girlfriend, a Hester Barry, a Ravenclaw girl in my year. She was rather pretty, but fairly unsophisticated.

  "Gallivanting after his beloved Hester, of course." I snarled.

  She sat up, pleased at my reaction. "Don't you like Hester?"

  "Oh, she's intellectual, of _course_." I said with a nauseated smile, and together, as if there was something inane between us, we threw back our heads and laughed a laugh of ridicule.

  "What bothers you about her, my dear?" Narcissa asked in all seriousness after a moment.

  "She's pretty, but she's so _plain_. She seems like a country bumpkin compared to his options. I'm _only_ thinking of his potential, Narcissa." I said airily, looking at a portrait of Madame Barnhart distractedly.

  Narcissa smirked at me. "Of course. Only of his potential."

  The family supper was a very public affair indeed. It was at the classy Finch's Place, and it included Aunt Tamaris and her daughter Mignonette, who turned out quite as plain as Hester, 'Uncle' Terrance, Ernie, Draco and I. Aunt Tamaris had Mignonette to her left and 'Uncle' Terrance to her right, and she sat straight across from Draco and I, unfortunately, across from 'Uncle' Terrance. Mignonette was flirting across the table with Ernie, which is almost incestuous when you think about it. And of course, at the head of our table, Maxwell and Narcissa, and at the foot of it, a photographer.

   "Well, mother, how was your outing with Scarlet?" Draco asked as we began our salad. Narcissa and I shared a private smile.

  "It was a learning experience indeed." Narcissa answered. "I must speak to you in my boudoir when we return to the manor."

  "Of course, mother, of course." Draco replied, glancing at me. "And what did you think of your outing this afternoon?"

  I smiled, glancing at the ceiling innocently. "Oh, well, I hope I helped your mother a bit."

  He scowled a bit. "Don't you mean, you're glad mother helped you?"

  "Don't ask silly questions, darling." Narcissa answered for me. It seemed as if some sort of partnership had formed between us.

  "Lovely dress, Scarlet, dear." Maxwell complimented. "I only hope your debut dress will be just as lovely."

  "She _will_ be debuting soon, shan't she?" Narcissa asked with a sudden rejuvenation. I'm quite sure she always wanted a daughter. Especially one trained, ready and developed just in time to mold before her debut into society.

  "_Mignonette_ has already debuted." Aunt Tamaris added sweetly.

  "Tamaris, you had an opportunity to make Mignonette my ward long ago." Maxwell said firmly. "It is to your advantage to find her a husband rather than someone to foot the bills."

  I hid a giggle behind a sweet smile. "Ernest, how _is_ your Advanced Herbology class?" I kicked 'Uncle' Terrance under the table, as I felt his clumsy boots trying to snake up my leg. "Uncle Terrance, did you know that Ernest, _although_ he is only a fifth year, needs only to finish his Herbology credit before he can graduate? Isn't it simply splendid?"

  "Marvelous, my dear." He answered glumly. Ernie, sadly, didn't get a word in edgewise before a photographer had taken a nice photo of us eating.

  After dessert, we were encouraged to join those on the dance floor. Draco invited me out and was quite surprised at my ability to tango. A slow and sultry song allowed us conversation in husky whispers.

  "What is it my mother wishes to discuss with me?" He asked as we both looked on either side of the dance floor.

  "Why on earth would I know?" I lied, snapping my leg out.

  "Well, when I asked her about your outing, she almost immediately requested I discuss something with her in her boudoir. Just seemed a little…" The song slowly changed into a fast waltz during which conversation was not allowed. I giggled at his pace.

  "Do keep up!" I shouted over the cheery quartet.

  As the song crept into a slower song, not quite as tantalizing as the beginning of the set, he jerked me up almost forcefully. "Suspicious. It just seems a bit suspicious." He smiled at me almost apologetically, loosening his grip on my arms and placing his hands where they ought to be. "You being mum's new best friend, I assumed you'd know."

  "When you assume, Draco, you make an ass out of you and me." I answered almost childishly, hoping he wouldn't call me on said childishness.

  He didn't. He only frowned and kept a stone cold face as we continued through the evening.

   Late that night, Mrs. White knocked on my boudoir door as I was brushing my hair. 

  "Madame Rockford wishes to see you in her boudoir. She says there is still a purchase of yours amongst her things."

  I nodded and slipped out of my room in my dressing gown and slippers.

  As I meekly entered Narcissa's boudoir through a backdoor, Draco was staring at her, displeased and on the verge of a tantrum.

  "Mother, I am _not_ going to stop seeing Hester merely because you tell me to do so!"

  "Draco, she is as plain as a schoolbook! I am _not_ going to let your good looks and money go to waste on some gold-digging Miss Smarty-Pants!" Narcissa said firmly, and I knocked on the wall, hoping to let Draco calm down before he snapped at his mother.

  "Oh, Scarlet!" She exclaimed happily, reaching for a red velvet box, opening it for me to reveal diamond and platinum dangling earrings wading in white silk. "For your debut."

  I could feel his eyes flick up and down, appraising me. I rushed up happily to Narcissa, hugging her around her middle, sitting on my knees. She put them on for me, my dark red waves pulled back just a bit to show Draco.

  "Aren't they just perfect for her, Draco?" 

  He almost seemed pleased with my obviously new nocturnal attire, but his eyes met my shining ones, the ones that reflected the diamond's sparkle and glee. His face twisted into a dark scowl.

  "YOU!" He bellowed, pointing at me and I stood up, frightened. The lavender chiffon slipped brushed against my upper thighs as I stepped back. Narcissa clutched my hand protectively. "You caused this! I know you did!"

  Now I had a real reason to be scared. Earlier, I suppose it was just a part of my image. The timid and friendly wealthy girl. But now, I _had_ indeed undermined Hester, a girl who had done me no wrong. "What are you talking about?" I exclaimed breathily.

  "_You_ made mother hate Hester!" Draco accused, rushing up to me. "Don't deny it."

  "_Draco_, you are perfectly aware that Scarlet can't make me _hate_ anyone I don't know." Narcissa offered softly, as if talking to a child.

  "Besides," I began, almost snarling in what must have seemed like mustered courage, "I have _nothing_ but nice things to say about Hester. She's a sweet, intelligent girl."

  I was almost shaking in fear, but to Draco it must have looked like some sort of inner bravery. The diamond crescents and beads dangled magnificently as I played the part of the heroine. His look softened as he stepped back and clutched my forearms gently.

  "I'm so sorry, Virginia." He murmured, bringing me into a close embrace which lingered a little too long for an apologetic hug. I could feel Narcissa's smirk although I could not see it. He stepped back and Narcissa's smirk disappeared into a soft look of approval. "I'm sorry for my outburst, mother."

  Narcissa nodded to me, and I removed my new earrings quickly, placing them tenderly back in their bed of silk, and backing out of the room.

  "Scarlet!" I heard Parvati call as I exited the train with Draco. He rolled his eyes, murmuring something about girl talk. He kissed me swiftly on the cheek, departing to join his boys. Parvati rushed up to me, complimenting my chenille dress. Her volume dropped considerably, and she leaned in. "What do you know of Draco and Hester's _tragic_ ending?"

  She giggled, having agreed with me that Hester's minimalist beauty did not add up well with Draco's regal good looks. 

  "She's been crying up in her dorm since Saturday, when she received a late owl from Draco, according to my sister. And she was just so _nauseatingly_ excited about his picture being in the paper the next day. She was going to cut it out and put it under her pillow." Parvati made a face. "So what happened?" She asked ever so excitedly, slipping her arm into the loop of mine.

  I smiled innocently. "Well, his mother heard through a little bird that Hester's beauty wasn't quite up to par with her standards. And thus, severed. He _does_ try to please his mother so."

  Parvati gasped happily. "You didn't, you naughty girl!"

  I looked around in a counterfeit astonishment. "What?"

  We both shared a laugh, and a gust of wind pushed my hair back. We headed toward Three Broomsticks, and I looked back at Draco.

  He seemed so innocent in his misery. I almost wanted to hug him.

  But tough love would keep me from doing so.

  "Why, Virginia, I do believe you get lovelier every time I see you." A voice complimented me from behind. I turned with a bright smirk.

  "George, all you need to do is ask."

  "But that way makes me seem like a mooch; I much prefer sucking up to you first." He said as I handed him five sparkling new Galleons.

  "Does Bella know yet?" I asked in genuine concern.

  "I think she will. Sirius can never keep a secret during their post-coital chats." He leered, rolling his eyes.

  "Then why tell him?" I asked, scowling. "Isn't this whole joke shop a _secret_?"

  "Of course! Of the uppermost kind! Naturally, everybody but Bella knows about it." George said, flinging an arm around my shoulder. "Besides, Sirius is the expert."

  I nodded. "But isn't it so much easier to get Bella to back you emotionally and financially than it is to hit up your wealthy sister for the money and a guilt trip about deceiving your beloved second mum?"

  "Yeah, well, some things in life you got to do the hard way, sis. And some things you just hit up your wealthy sister for the money and a guilt trip about deceiving your beloved second mum." George kissed me on the cheek and darted off to join Fred and Lee, who were looking like little kids in Honeyduke's at the sight of gold.

  I suppose it should have hit me harder. I mean, he was the man who saved me from poverty and, in giving me this large family of the upper class, loneliness as well. However, I having not really _known_ Maxwell, I cannot say that it was easy making the tears for the headlines.

  He died at the end of my fourth year, in his study. We 'went on' and 'stayed strong' by debuting me early, having my most distinguished brother, William, hand me over to my escort, Draco. 

  Life moved on as it always had.

  The only truly significant thing that Maxwell's death caused me, and I'm not talking about the legal trouble about whose care I was to be under, that is so trivial and so unimportant, was probably the night after the will had been read, I laid there in my bed, my covers over me, completely expecting to go to sleep.

  And I found I could not.

  Why, you may ask? I had just told you that Maxwell's death had nothing but a vapid impact upon me.

  That's what I told myself.

  And that was when I realized I was nothing but a vapid, shallow and insignificant character in a series of novels about something great. Someone great. I was insignificant for a reason.

  I had average marks for a girl of my station, meaning they were excellent as expected. I attended every Quidditch game and organized a few parties for them and next year I would be a prefect. I had lots of friends in other houses, but my closest ones were in my own, but I had no significant character points, nothing special about me.

  All I am is just a pretty little rich girl.

  And that…none of that was my own. Lilly had made me beautiful, Lilly had gone to Azkaban to make me beautiful, to make me _credible_ in her mind, to ensure her place in Maxwell's life. And even she had been dismissed.

  And I was wealthy by some pure twist of fate and Lilly's twisted mind ensuring my adoption.

  I was nothing.

  And that was all I could continue being.

  I scoured Maxwell's diaries and memoirs, which he had intended to be published after I had made something of myself. They were very self-involved, but they made him seem like such an excellent father figure. Although, from my point of view, I could see through his sugar-coating. I could tell he was lying.

  And I realized I would be just like him. Leading a meaningless life of wealth, and unlike him, I wouldn't have the benefit of having some business to succeed at to keep me occupied.

  I realized that evening that I was more like my father than I ever knew.

  I'd have to say that after Hester there was a remarkable change in Draco. He had been rather spoiled when I first met him, treating me like a pet. During Hester's reign of his world, he had become a slightly detached personage, someone that I treated more or less like a social acquaintance.  Shortly afterward, he was a miserable sop I tried to cheer up, completely out of guilt of having caused his misery. After Hester, my cunning days were over. It made me tired and sick of the person I became. 

  Although Narcissa and I remained friends, the death had pushed her from me, and I understood that she had to play the role of the grieving widow for the last time. She did not _want_ to remarry. Her official statement on me was that she had grown fond of me during the course of her friendship and relationship with Maxwell Rockford and she would allow me to live free of charge in her house with room and board included for as long as I wished, she was in no way my stepmother, mother or guardian. Charles, my elder brother that traveled with dragons, became my guardian and allowed me to live with Narcissa in the Grimaldi manor.

  After I had cheered up Draco, he became a charming young man at parties, but only to a point of social politeness. No girl ever so much as thought he was keen on her, only that he was a really nice young man, an excellent conversationalist, a fine athlete, an intelligent prefect. Nothing more.

  He had, however, taken a keen interest in _my_ love life. I had a few beaus before, but after I debuted, there seemed to be a 'process' in selecting my dates. Narcissa had named herself my unofficial fairy princess godmother, and she decided which men I was allowed to see. Although some were just older than my twin brothers, and some were as young as I was, none of them seemed to satisfy her or I.

  Draco often teased me of being the object of Harry Potter's affections, to which I rolled my eyes. If that poor daft bloke failed to understand that I was simply not interested in him by now, he never would. And then there was always 'Uncle' Terrance, a man who caused me to hide in Narcissa's boudoir in fright. And although Ernie had gone to New Salem School of Sorcery in Massachusetts, the United States, we still had a smart family member living under our roof. Terrance's ex-fiancée's cousin had a fellowship at a small conservatory of Defense Against the Dark Arts near the Grimaldi manor, and although he was a rather handsome and younger chap than some of my beaus, he was so timid.

  It was during the winter of my fifth year that my life changed to become a pattern first shown in the very beginning of my story.

To be continued…


	3. Claws In You

Disclaimer: This AU idea came to me as I sat there watching Cruel Intentions and playing Clue. Anything you don't recognize is mine. And for those of you dopes who don't recognize the song, I'll give the rights away at the end.

Who's got their claws  
In you my friend?  
Into your heart I'll beat again 

  I had perhaps gotten bolder.

  That is what I concluded. It was dangerous to walk down this particular corridor, past 'Uncle' Terrance's room, without a robe, especially in the particular dressing gowns I was infamous for wearing around the Gryffindor tower.

  This scarlet one was a gift from Parvati that was a great deal longer and so much warmer than the ones I usually refreshed my boudoir bureau with. I had opened it as she had sent it this very morning of Christmas Eve, an early present she hoped would be put to good use.

   "Let simplicity seduce your choice, and let the warming Charm of the silk make certain your bed is never empty." I had read in confusion that morning. How on earth was a warming charm supposed to keep a lover lingering? Warmth was nice, but to make such a promise? I had shaken it off.

  The gown was actually quite nice. It had a low back and thin straps that flowed from the sweetheart neckline and it almost had a train. It kept every inch it covered warm.

  My hair was still in a twist from Christmas Eve supper. We had each decided to retire to our beds early, in hopes that Christmas would come faster. But late into the evening, about eleven thirty, something urged me to take a walk. Tendrils were softly falling from my hairstyle I had yet to take down, although I had put my jewelry away long ago. I put on a pair of silken boudoir slippers and grasped my wand.

  "_Lumos_." I whispered, sneaking out of the East wing and past horrid 'Uncle' Terrance's room, thankful I could not hear his snores in my suite. I passed Tony's room, and the door was slightly ajar, and he looked just so adorable while he slept, I decided not to include him on my little journey.

  As I shivered, tiptoeing softly through the courtyard as not to wake the resident of the North wing, Narcissa, I noticed the servants' quarters, which were above the South wing, were alit and the children were whispering with glee. I smiled up at them for a moment, but then the cold hit me hard and I rushed into the West wing's door and slammed it fiercely behind me.

  I only hoped I wouldn't waken the beast of the West wing- Draco.

  I don't necessarily know where I was headed that Christmas Eve, but I decided, after having loudly arrived in the West wing, I might as well go to the library. I couldn't light any torches, so all I could do was look at the titles of the children's section with the light of the moonlight guiding me as it poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

  "Peter Pan. Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella. Beauty and the Beast." I smiled when I reached White Fang, Draco's precious favorite since childhood.

  I reached up for it and as it was just above my arm level, I could barely grasp it. I finally managed to pull it down, but pulled down about eighteen more books with it, and some expensive bookends.

  Needless to say, it was not a quiet experience.

  Crashes and the sounds of breaking glass were not the only sounds made. I swore I heard little feet, but the children of the servants knew better than to be romping around the manor this late and I _knew_ there were no mice.

  I gasped in alarm, dropping my wand. Perhaps there were burglars!

  I frantically tried to jump over the mess I had made into the light, where I felt somewhat safer. I'd have to get my wand later. However, my heel smashed what had been a glass bookend only so much further and I tripped into the arms of a very upset resident of the house.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" My assailant whispered harshly, pulling me up into the light so I could see him. It was _Draco_ grasping me by my bare forearms. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

  I nodded meekly.

  "Do you have any idea who I thought you were?"

  "A burglar?"

  "Yes." He dropped my arms and rolled his eyes and I noticed that he was barefoot and shirtless. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "God, Gin, you do me in sometimes. What the fuck are you doing here?"

  "Hey!" I scolded in a breathy whisper. "Don't talk to me like that, I'm a lady, remember?"

  "What are you doing across the house in the middle of the night dressed the way you are?" He continued. He paused and dipped his head so our eyes were on the same level. "Uncle Terrance didn't rape you, did he?"

  I let out a small fit of quiet giggles. "No, he was snoring when I passed his room."

  "Then what—" He shook his head, sitting down in a large wing chair. "Knowing you, you have absolutely no logical explanation for your presence in this library."

  I placed my hands on my hips, jutting out my lower lip. "Excuse me, but I can be in this library whenever I wish. I live here too."

  He laughed. "That you do. But there are no torches lit, Miss Rockford. Any explanations for that?"

  I avoided looking at the Ravenclaw. "I don't know how to light them."

  "And you're supposing…hoping that I know how?" Draco asked in amusement, standing up.

  "Well, wouldn't you? You've made out enough in this library to know how to create a pleasant ambiance with light in here!" I protested in my defense and I almost felt like the ingénue I was supposed to be. I hated feeling too innocent.

  He laughed even more and lit the torches for me. "Any favorites amongst my expensive first-edition volumes?"

  I placed one hand on my hip and smirked. He mounted the arm of the wing chair cockily. "White Fang."

  He grabbed my hands playfully, pulling me towards him. "Oh really?"

  I nodded without a word, looking down at our feet almost bashfully. He dipped his head under to meet my eyes and for a moment, he just stared at them.

  And then he kissed me.

  Very softly at first, and then he pulled away breathlessly, going in for more soft kisses. I couldn't stop him. I didn't know how. I had had countless beaus but I had never had them in such rushes of cutesy romance that I could stand, let alone enjoy.

  The kisses became firmer as he stood up. I backed up to oblige him some space. His hands both gently held me up by the small of my back and besides his lips, no other part of his body was touching me. I gasped for air when he started kissing my ears, my cheeks, and my forehead. And then he began suckling on my neck, leaving kisses in a trail along my jaw line and across my collarbone, and then along the low neckline of my dress.

  "Draco—" I finally managed, pushing him away. After a few shallow breaths, I pushed out one breathy request. "As…wonderful at this as you are, I just can't, I mean…"

  Draco sat back down again bashfully, looking away from me. "Sorry. I don't…"

  I stepped forward, and my dress brushed against his hand. He stopped apologizing and he looked at me with a new hunger, a new fire burning in the back of his head.

  "No, Draco." I said firmly, not knowing what had come over my childhood friend.

  "Look, let me make it up to you." He said stone-faced, grasping one of my hands loosely and letting it fall to my side. "I have an adapted version of White Fang that I know you'll love. Hester gave it to me for Christmas last year."

  My jealousy slightly flared at the sound of Hester's name, and his evil little fire in his eyes just moments before was explained. But I nodded timidly, taking his hand in mine.

  He led me to his room in silence, but I could hear the spring in his step. I felt bad for putting it there under false pretenses, but as long as he behaved, I could tolerate this little crush.

  His room was dark, and his silken blankets and sheets flipped down, showing me that he had jumped out when he had heard me in the library. But judging by the fact that the curtains on his magnificent floor-to-ceiling windows were drawn; I knew he hadn't been sleeping.

  Draco had never shown me his room, although I always knew he had plenty of books in his room. The moonlight showed me the room more than Draco could. There was a lovely table for two next to the windows, and bookshelves near them as well.

  His bed was gargantuan, to say the least. It was a cast iron four-poster with a frame for a canopy, but no canopy or curtains. It was not only large in space, but the posts were reaching for the high ceiling and almost made it. His sheets and blankets were made of white and black silk, something I thought was very characteristic.

  I looked around a bit more. There was a desk next to a large dresser, and chess set with two chairs, a mirror and doors to other rooms in his suite.

  I felt him behind me, sliding his arms over mine. I stepped forward as to avoid another uncomfortable moment.

  "Where's that story?" I asked brightly, turning around to face him.

  He drew in a sharp breath, and the look of praise he was giving my face, the serious intenseness of it, suddenly made me very aware that the door was closed.

  "I have a story for you, Gin. Once upon a time there was a very beautiful princess who lived in a castle with a prince that had been her friend for a long time." He stepped forward, closing the gap between us, slowly untying one of the straps of my dressing gown. His voice dropped to a low, affection whisper. "He'd always loved her." He kissed the back of my neck gently. "And somewhere in her, she loved him too. She went through something of a bratty phase," He began untying the other strap. "But it made him see how much he wanted her to be his own." He let the straps fall, revealing my entire upper body to him. He didn't stare at it. He looked me in the eyes. "Parvati made an excellent gift selection. The packaging lies."

  He gently pushed me back onto his bed. "Nothing but you could keep me in your bed for the rest of time."

  Draco straddled my waist, dipping to kiss my neck as he had in the library, except now it was less urgent. His kisses were lingering, like the hug he had given me in his mother's boudoir only months before. 

  I pushed him up once more, but this time I was surrendering. "How does the story end?"

  "The prince decided that he wanted his princess to be his in every aspect." He stood back up and slid my dress completely off, taking my slippers with him, placing them on a chair. I felt so vulnerable, being completely naked while he had the benefit of pants. He slipped those off almost as instantly as I shivered, as if he had read my mind. "Heart, mind, soul and body."

  That night Draco made _love_ to me. And the entire time, although he caressed me in other places, the entire time he kept his eyes on my face.

  Although the night had been long and tiring, I was not ready to sleep. The worries have the morning after did not hit until days later, so I couldn't blame my lack of sleep on them. Nor was I worried about how this had 'changed things'. I just wasn't sleeping. And although Draco wasn't sleeping either, we weren't, thankfully, talking about it.

  When I finally felt the soft whispers of slumber luring me, I curled up under the cool sheets and Draco threw his arm over my figure and as if we had planned it, our eyes fell to a close together.

   Sadly, Draco had neglected to close the curtains, so as soon as the sun rose completely, it shone meekly into the West wing.

  Draco put on his pajama pants and I slipped back into my dressing gown and slippers and we attended the informal Christmas breakfast.

  Narcissa smirked when she saw us walk into her dining room, which was smack in the middle of the courtyard between the wings, and servants brought in the food from the South wing kitchen.

  "My dear Scarlet, what ever were you doing in the West wing so early?" 'Uncle' Terrance asked in the sickliest of sweet voices.

  "The library." I answered timidly, hoping my cheeks weren't growing hot.

  "Happy Christmas." Draco muttered in some sort of attempt to change the subject. I looked at him strangely.

  Draco did not seem at all uncomfortable with the events of the night before; it was almost like he had planned it since we had been introduced, but I couldn't and wouldn't give his demented little ten-year-old mind that kind of credit.

  I just hoped it wouldn't be a recurring event, because that could get messy.

  And of course, there was little I could do to prevent the unpreventable while I resided under his roof, or what was practically his roof. But in days we'd return to Hogwarts, and there I could try to hide.

  But there were still days left before my safe haven.

  I sat there, staring at Christmas breakfast, realizing that I was being sexually harassed, by one of my best friends and a man that had been my stepbrother for a few months.

  This was sick, even for high society.

To be continued…


	4. Ball and Chain

Disclaimer: This AU idea came to me as I sat there watching Cruel Intentions and playing Clue. Anything you don't recognize is mine. And for those of you dopes who don't recognize the song, I'll give the rights away at the end.

You've got your ball,  
You've got your chain  
Tied to me tight, tie me up again. 

  The few days that I remained in the Grimaldi manor, I avoided Draco like the plague.

  Although now he had an undeniable part of me, which was indeed my virginity, and although he had paid great attention to me upon taking it, he had practically raped me. And he continued to harass me by just smirking at me at meals.

  On Boxing Day we exchanged small but expensive tokens of our affection over breakfast. Tony had received books from everyone. Ah, such a sad world is it when professors can only receive books for Christmas.

  Uncle Terrance received a few more guns from Narcissa and Draco, as he was a huge fan of hunting. I, however, gave him a gift certificate to a tofu restaurant in Hogsmeade. Tony, although he hid a small smile after I presented my gift, handed him a book on stuffing birds.

  Narcissa was a woman that was hard to please, and I seemed to be the only one who knew precisely how to do that. So, everyone had consulted me weeks before about what to purchase. Tony had renewed her subscription to Witch Weekly for her, Uncle Terrance gave her a new mink hat, and Draco gave her an exquisite set of black pearl jewelry. I opted to refill some of the beauty items she treasured, including the Thestral Flaw-Hiding Powder only I could make with the scent she loved. She smiled at each of us, but gave me the largest smile I had ever seen. From her, anyway.

  Draco received many gifts from Narcissa, mostly things for his room at school since I had learned the hard way and seen that these intimate details for one's space were already present in Draco's room. I had purchased him cuff links one afternoon in Hogsmeade and came back later to see they were wrapped for me. His face lit up with a malicious little smile as he opened the case.

   He turned around the case so we all could see. There they were, great gigantic opal cuff links, resting in a bed of scarlet silk.

   If I didn't blush myself silly, I would've seen his other presents.

   It was then my turn to open my presents. Narcissa had of course decided to refresh my entire wardrobe with the warmest and latest trends of Victoria's Secret and Fredrick's, true to her fashion. Uncle Terrance had gone with her and purchased me a year's supply of everything Victoria's had to offer in my favorite scent, Strawberries and Champagne. He waggled his eyebrows up at me quite inappropriately and I turned away, only to see Draco quirk up his eyebrows, teasing me.

  Tony gave me a copy of Dangerous Liaisons, of course the French version, as he knew I had mastered many, many pointless languages. Portuguese, French, Spanish, German, Norwegian, Dutch and Italian. Kind of silly, but I had been bored.

  Draco had been characteristic in getting me several expensive presents. The first was a long, double-breasted cream-colored woolen coat lined with the matching fur of some horrendously soft animal. He smiled at me softly and I could almost feel his arms around me, as they had been only two nights before. He then presented me with a glittering diamond choker with practically invisible platinum setting, and matching studs. I inspected the size of the flawless pretties, and they were two carats each! I didn't want to count the amount of diamonds on the choker, but I was pretty sure there were twelve. He opened two more boxes to reveal two matching tennis bracelets.

  I gasped, not believing that he had paid for approximately thirty flawless two-carat diamonds for me back when he had only been my closest friend. They smirked at me with their glitter, swimming in their sea of white silk.

  I wanted to glare at him. He had most definitely been planning this encounter. He wasted no time in suavely getting up and helping me with the choker.

  He brushed my hair to the side, dramatically picking it up and linking it around my neck.

  It was my collar.

  "Draco, why, I must say that this is…surprising." Narcissa managed after a few moments. His present had struck her speechless, and that was rare. "Imagine what you might've purchased for Hester."

  "I did." He whispered in my ear and I suddenly realized I was wearing his girlfriend's jewels.

  I had to use all of my self-control not to glare at him. Here he was manipulating me and in front of everyone, no less. Bastard.

  "They are so pretty. When on earth did you get them?" I asked, smiling sweetly at him and 'accidentally' jabbing him in the hip as I turned to face 'my hero'.

  "The moment I saw them all together, I had your coat in a long box and I just saw a vision- you with your glittering jewelry in the coat, your hair back in an elegant twist like the one you wore—the one she always wears, mother, to social events." He almost gave himself away. I almost believed his bullshit. "I knew the image was something I had to share."

  "Oh, but with whom? I'm not dating anyone, you silly boy!" I exclaimed with another sweet smile. My hand flew to my chest as I faced the rest of the table. "Why, I _hate_ to sound ungrateful but there's no ring!"

  Draco reached for the earrings and he helped me put them on. "Oh but there will be." He whispered.

  "I don't think so." I muttered through a bright smile.

  As he put in my left one, he moved my hair back. "Isn't she just a vision?"

  "A vision." They all murmured in their own tones. He delicately snapped a tennis bracelet on each wrist.

  "A toast. To Virginia on her fifteenth Christmas." He took _my_ glass and raised it. They all smiled their own smiles, Narcissa the smirk she always had whenever Draco and I spoke to one another, Uncle Terrance his quite pervy little smile, and Tony his ever-reassuring smile. They raised their glasses.

  "To Virginia on her fifteenth Christmas."

  He sipped my glass than lowered it to my lips. I glowered, although I tried my hardest not to.

  I knew I'd have to flush his precious jewelry down the drain, I couldn't stand that he had given me shackles, markings and a collar that had belonged to his _beloved_ Hester.

  "Scarlet, darling, I'll put the jewelry away in the safe so you can use them later, perhaps at the Valentine's Day Ball? We'll owl mother for them." Draco said soothingly, patting my hair and beginning to take his pieces off, starting with the necklace.

  "I won't wear it." I muttered as he put it back in its case.

  "Yes, you will. You're too vain not to." He whispered back as he removed my right bracelet.

  "I'm not one of your vapid whores." I retorted softly, although my heart sunk as he closed the bracelet's case. He took off another one.

  "We shall see." He whispered back as he put away the left bracelet.

  I bit my tongue and as he started reaching for the earrings, I jutted my cheek out, prompting him to kiss it and plainly stating aristocratically that he would not take away the earrings. He smirked and did as my body language commanded, going to sit back down.

  "I'd like to begin the thanks for the presents. I'm very grateful to all of you, you really have done too much." I said graciously. "Shall we tuck in?"

  We began to eat and I must have glowered because Draco looked all too satisfied with himself.

  The morning we were to leave, I asked Narcissa if I could access the jewelry Draco had given me.

  "I must make an entrance." I told her, and she smiled, knowing there was a reason more than that but not saying a word.

  I slipped into a cream-colored silk dress and put on matching opera gloves and my new coat. It was too soft. I placed the diamond tennis bracelets on my wrists and put on the choker myself. I brushed my hair into a low bun, not a hair out of place.

  I would play his game for someone else. I could not stand his self-satisfied smile.

  I rubbed my red lips together, pleased with the matte finish, and smiling at my flawless reflection. The identity crisis of a few days before was over. My identity was sadly going to be based upon this one person and his silly little game.

  And I was going to win.

  I was a vision. Somehow, a young woman dressed in a long cream coat with matching silk opera gloves and lots of diamonds is hard to ignore. I walked with assistants, Seamus who had not brought back new trunks as I had, and was glad to push my cart for me. I walked straight past Draco, who seemed to be amused I was giving him the cold shoulder.

  Heads turned and it was quite obvious King's Cross had not had such a well-dressed passenger in quite some time.

  Ron let out a long whistle, and I could tell it was sarcastic. I turned to face him on our platform.

  I smiled one of the sweet smiles I had gotten so accustomed to using on Draco. "Why, Ronald, darling, I didn't see you!"

  "New boyfriend, I see." Ron commented, shaking my hand and inspected the diamonds.

  "I suppose. Rather is annoying." I said, raising my eyebrows momentarily, turning away.

  Draco was making his way across the platform and Ron noticed how my eyes were darting just a little bit towards him.

  "I take it you don't want to be in this situation?" He asked, as I seemed to be inching our conversation further and further away from an advancing Draco.

  "May I sit in your compartment, brother darling?" I asked in reply to his question as Draco had arrived all too closely to us.

  "Of course, Scarlet." He answered, playing along quite well for such a daft prat.

  "Oh." I perked up, sending Draco a cool stare. I was talking more to Draco, although I directed my voice and smile at my estranged brother. "That's such a childish little nickname. I'm fairly sure I want to go by Virginia now."

  Draco scowled wordlessly and walked away.

  Ron, quite fortunately, did not ask me any questions, just offered his arm to me and although it pained me to rest my silken hand upon his coarse shirt, I did it happily. Because in a matter of seconds, and quite noiselessly as well, Ron and I had become friends.

  And I'm pretty sure this had to do with some sort of grudge against Draco Malfoy.

  It was no matter, because I had finally won over my brother Ronald.

  It seemed as if this little affair had to have an inevitable reconciling conference. And Draco took it into his hands to do this.

  He did happen to take his time in doing so, leering over at me whenever he could, but not actually saying anything.

  The Valentine's Day Ball was at, for the first time, an establishment off-campus. It was a reward for those with only the highest marks or those who did extremely well in extra curricular activities as well (so just being on the Quidditch team didn't count. You had to be good.)

  Honest to Merlin, it had been weeks since I had actually spoken to Draco, five to be precise. I was taking my time in the little dressing room Parvati had set up in her bathroom, and Hermione Granger came in and sniffed disapprovingly as she came in to put on her boring old brown lipstick to match her boring old gray dress. And not silver mind you, gray. It was terribly puffy and somewhat girlish, although it had a hint of the old lady in her. I complimented her on her hair, which had been calmed down into thick curls.

  "Oh." She had said in reply, looking at my dress and curves a little enviously, I thought. "Your dress looks nice. Where'd you get it? Madam Malkin's?"

  I refrained from giggling, but Parvati didn't pay Hermione the same favor. "No, not Madam Malkin's."

  The strapless blood red silk dress with a full, wispy skirt completely of matching tulle was obviously not a creation of Madam Malkin's. The skirt, most definitely promising to make me feel cold, reached my ankles while red, floral lace straps from my heels wrapped their way up. I was putting on a clear, glittering lip-gloss when she had come in and now I was curling my eyelashes.

  She didn't honestly _have_ to ask where I got it.

  "Where, then?" She asked as I tried not to scowl whilst doing my eyeliner.

  "New York. City." I answered, making sure my lashes were silky, black, long and curled. I turned to ensure the up do of coils had been properly plastered to my head, shining as to not upstage the jewelry I was about to put on.

  "Oh, why were you there?" She continued to ask, watching Parvati and me during our beauty regimen.

  To get find a dress. "Leisure." I answered tactfully, not sincerely _wanting_ to put on my jewelry in front of them, and Parvati could sense my need for a dramatic entrance.

  "Come on, Hermione, let's go and get the punch before they spike it." I had to hold myself back from laughing, because that was the perfect for getting Hermione Granger out of my makeshift boudoir.

  I smiled and waved, indicating that I did not give a rat's arse if I got a bit of spiked punch.

  I did not use opera gloves this particular evening, just wanting the sheer excess of diamonds against a considerably plainer palette tonight. I started with the earrings.

  _My markings._

  Then the bracelets.

  _My shackles._

  And finally, the choker.

  _My collar._

  I slipped into my coat and took one long look into the mirror, perfectly aware that tonight I was possibly selling my soul.

  The clicking of my heels against the cobblestone avenue as I, a sole and lonely partygoer, crossed into the night against the dim lighting of the street. I entered the Hogsmeade Hotel and checked my coat, causing quite a gasp from the coat girl.

  The ball was already underway, I could hear the laughter and the music and the shuffling of feet.

  The foggy glass double doors magically opened and I was there.

  If it hadn't been for the glitter, or merely the glittering set in the simplicity of solid dark silk and tulle, I don't think I would've been noticed at all by Draco or any of his cronies.

  But the fact that I had come as suggested most likely intrigued him. And, on the other hand, _everyone_ was looking at me.

  A brunette standing near him scowled, dressed in an entirely inappropriate ensemble of a mini-dress, walked off, and looked back disappointedly to see he neither noticed or watched her curves as she had left.

 Without the scowling brunette or his usual hoard of whores surrounding him, I was able to approach him and softly.

  "Well, look at this head turner." He said loudly and rather brashly, continuing the tradition of our friendly banter.

  So that's how he wanted to play it.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, Virginia Rockford!" He announced playfully, starting the applause. I found myself giggling and beaming and taking a curtsy with my huge skirt.

  And I don't know what pleased me more, that Hermione and Ron were sincerely applauding, or that Draco was.

  "A dance, milady?" He suddenly asked huskily, and I noticed how close he was to me. I was pleased we weren't starting the night with a slow song. But my relief was short-lived, as the jazz singer, although infamous for being into the cool jazz scene, began singing a seductively slow and tantric, tango-like song of which only experts could dance to.

  The lights changed to be almost black, the spotlight glowing with red edges on the two that happened to manage.

  Of course, only those of the highest aristocracy at school. The shuffling of our shoes and the smooth, clean lines of my leg work, and the fact that we were making slow, lingering love by dancing did not take the spotlight off of the issue at hand.

   "There is most definitely something going on between them."

   And the dance was over. The night continued something like it usually had, us being friendly and then us burning up the dance floor.

  It was this game of push and shove. After another revival of our seductive game, he led me off the floor and into a private alcove near the punch table.

  He ran a soft finger up and down one arm affectionately as I, with my crystal goblet in one hand, stared at him in wonderment.

  We were silent for an entire dance. And after it was over, he prompted me to finish my drink. I did so and we danced our way to the exit.

  "I take it you rebelled and used a cloak instead?" He asked as he patiently waited for my coat, putting on his own.

  "Maybe." My coat arrived, ratting me out in my game of mystery and intrigue.

  He laughed and helped me into it. He brought his arms around me and took a sniff of my perfume.

  "God, I can't believe you're mine." He gasped.

  I turned away, not truly displeased. "Because I'm not."

  He smirked at me and offered me his arm. "Carriage back to the castle?"

  "Whose room, yours or mine?" I whispered knowledgably.

  "Mmm. You shall see."

  All we did during the carriage ride was stare at each other, almost smirking at one another.

  He led me up to his room, pulling off my coat and helping me out of my dress and shoes. He too undressed, changing into his pajama pants. He threw back his silken sheets and placed me in there. He got in on his side and threw his arm over me, pulling the sheets and covers over me.

  "Night, Virginia."

  What the fuck? I was expecting sex! I was expecting hard-core, body icing, him making my libido explode sex!

  I turned, noticing I was still in his jewelry. Typical. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  His eyes opened, and he stared at me blankly. "What do you mean?"

  I threw off the covers, stood up and pointed at my coat and dress. "They're folded, for fuck's sake!"

  "Well?" He sat up, staring at me in confusion.

  "I was expecting some vile, dirty, kinky, hard-core, me screaming my lungs out sex! Instead I'm sleeping naked to a half-dressed puff!" I nearly shouted. He reached across the bed and pulled me in. This was more like it.

  "Do you _really_ want my dorm mates to come in and see you standing there naked and screaming? They'll think we've had a lover's spat." Draco whispered loudly, as if there was anybody else in the room.

  "That's what we're doing, you dimwit! You tease me all night and publicly, no less. And then you bring me up here, undress me and expect me to simply sleep?" I whispered unhappily, jutting out my lip and lying down.

  "I just didn't think you wanted my dorm mates to see…the aftermath." He answered truthfully, and I looked at him. It was a mixture of childish jealousy and concern for my well-being.

  To answer, I sat up and straddled his clothed hips, dipping in for a kiss.

  Of course, his mates absolutely had to return at that moment.

  "Not tonight." He whispered.

  I rolled my eyes and hopped up, surprised at my own audacity about my nudity. I crawled into the place I previously occupied and wordlessly, Draco threw his arm over my naked figure and, although he cuddled me closer to him and rubbed my stomach affectionately, that was the whole of the night.

  It was the most talked about relationship on campus; so naturally, no one breathed a word around me. 

  To be honest with you, it was not very interesting. He paid for some of my meals, and if he happened to be there when I was window-shopping, he'd purchase the items that seemed hardest for me to put back.

  There was nothing more.

  It was late March and I thought about how vapid this whole thing was. He purchased things for me. I didn't even sleep in his bed. And I can't tell you what was more frustrating, his silence or my needs which weren't being fulfilled, or the fact that I had never had such needs before. And all it seemed to be was a marking of his property, and I was _no one's_ property. I would not be toyed with as if I owed him something.

  They say a newly devirginized person is very bonded to the person who has taken her virginity, in some way, shape or form.

  I was not going to be like them.

  I was window-shopping, trying on a black dress I was busting out of, when I felt hands on my hips. And I knew they weren't Draco's.

  I turned around; my opera gloved hands flying up should I need to defend myself.

  My assaulter stepped back and I saw that it was my charming 'cousin' so to speak, Maxwell's nephew Blaise. Blaise had always been handsome and he had always been cocky about it, too. He leaned on one of the many mirrors as the elevator music drifted in gently, crossing his arms.  He was dressed in a nice three-piece suit that, mind the pun, suited him perfectly, being made of sleek dark blue and silver pieces.

  "Now, now, now, dear cousin, please do _not_ tell me that your masquerade as Draco's toy has squashed your creativity. You always were one for color." He drawled and I raised my eyebrows, turning back around to inspect my ensemble.

  "Toy, Blaise? You insult me."

   "Then all is right in the world." Blaise had made it clear to me at a dinner party long ago that although he wanted entirely to ravish me, and although it was clear I was adopted by his uncle, he still found it entirely disgusting. His smirk softened. "Come on, pohpet." He whispered, using a pet name he hadn't in ages. "You could get yourself someone so much more worth than this. Or at least, if he deserves you, something far more interesting than him doting on you and not so much as allowing you to admire the curves of other men."

  I turned around, stripping my arms of the gloves. "Am I really that pathetic, Blaise?"

  He looked apologetic, but he nodded. 

  "Who, then?"

   Blaise's selection was all too bad, a seventh year Slytherin he was close to but not to the point of being able to write off a bet by the name of Andrew Avery. Andrew, although he did happen to appreciate my curves, face and sarcastic sense of humor, could not shake that I was a Gryffindor and wanted to be discreet. Hell, _I_ wanted to be discreet. The name Rockford was the only thing that insured he show up.

  Blaise decided to take me shopping as to please Andrew as much as humanly possible. Although Andrew was indeed a hardcore Slytherin, he happened to love pure white lace on a woman. So Blaise helped me purchase the most tantalizing pure white lace lingerie to put under a vivid silken halter green dress that hugged my curves, but the flowy skirt reaching my ankles made me seem very, very classy, as I was. Black stilettos that wrapped all the way up my calves and to my knees were alluring, and Blaise insisted I wear my hair down like a sheet of blood red. No jewelry tonight- Blaise was kind enough to ensure I had no reminders of this night that I was tempted to use again.

  We had a nice supper at the Hotel's famous restaurant, and it turned out that Andrew's mum was quite the cook herself. What I learned about Andrew was that he was in Slytherin for several reasons: he was clever and ambitious. He prowled looking for rich gamblers such as my cousins to score what he wanted. The last reason was that his father was a Death Eater, and although that part of his legacy had not been passed down, unlike his love of food and his Quidditch talents, he was still something of a snob.

   As he waited for the bill to arrive, Andrew insisted on staring at me intently.

  "You're a child." He told me as the bill was set on the table, signing it expertly.

  "Thank you?" I retorted inquisitively and he touched me for the first time that evening.

  "I think I shall enjoy this evening with Malfoy's toy."

  I yanked my arm out from his reach. "I'm nobody's possession."

  He laughed and sat back as the waiter collected the bill happily. "Originally, it was _just_ that you were Malfoy's, so to speak, that intrigued me. But you are going to be fun, I can tell."

  He led me upstairs to a room that I could scarcely see, but I didn't care. He told me about tomorrow's Quidditch match, Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, as he undressed and helped me out of my own ensemble.

  Andrew's face lit up with possibly the only smile he had, a self-satisfied smirk that said he was about to enjoy a present he was about to unwrap.

  "God, some women forget what pure white lace makes men think of." He muttered as he began untying my thong. I must have looked confused. He let his hand just barely glide over my belly and up towards my breasts, cupping them for just a second too long. "Virgins. It makes them think of virgins, Virginia. Now most men have a fetish for virgins, or at least the men Blaise will have you dealing with." He reached behind me and popped my bra off, lying me down on the bed with only my shoes on. "This is sound advice, Virginia, so you better listen."

  Of course, he had to select that moment to place his hands in crevices that might cause me not to concentrate.

  "You have to sound and look like everything they're doing is something completely new, even if it is the worst sex you have ever had. Men like to think they're discovering something new, and regardless of how your body responds, if you make it appear like you're Princess fucking Jasmine and you're on Aladdin's magic carpet ride, they'll think it's the best they've ever had."

  And that's when he found it with his hand; the spot that Draco had teased his dick over so many times, laughing softly at my jerking hips. And already I was seeping with lubrication.

  Andrew wordlessly said a sterilizing contraceptive spell and started pounding away into me. To be honest, I had _had_ longer in my one experience, but Andrew was very thick. And that, in all truthfulness, was a whole new world. I was breathing stagnantly, and my legs wrapped around Andrew's slim form, my heels digging into his lower back. He laughed, knowing that this was my genuine reaction.

  Andrew's smirking face disappeared into my hair, and for some strange reason, his lapping on my neck was improving my chances of actually having an orgasm.

  He pulled up but not out to stare at me, on my frenzied way to releasing the anguish and lack of attention I had gone through for the past few weeks.

  "Now where might I leave my mark on Draco's toy? I can only be so subtle about the ones you've left on me." He smirked, jerking further into me teasingly.

  I let out an almost relieved sigh.

  "He obviously doesn't see you naked enough, else he'd ravish you like I plan to do for the rest of the night." He pulled out completely now and stood up. "Water?"

  I nodded in my state of—well, afterglow, I suppose. I hadn't really read up on the subject.

  He got himself a glass and took a drink, offering it to me. I sat up and drank quite a bit and after a few gulps, he grabbed his wand and moved the glass to the table, pouncing on me.

  Again, my heels dug into his back as I wrapped my legs around him and I was sick of being beneath this Slytherin. Without budging the action downstairs too much, I pushed up as much as I could, and he got the picture, letting up just a little so that we could topple onto the carpet.

  And you couldn't have placed a hair between our hips. And if I hadn't left any marks on his back, there certainly must have been some now.

  I sat up and rode him, and he let his hands slowly shimmy to my waist, helping me out a bit. And there it was. I screamed. I screamed his name as loudly as I possibly could.

  When I stopped, I was so tired I flopped over next to him on the floor.

  Andrew looked over at me with raised eyebrows. "You haven't kissed me."

  "Maybe next time."

  "There won't be another date, Weasley." He told me, crossing his arms over his chest and I rolled my eyes, standing up.

  "I mean next time we fuck. I'm good for another go before this 'date' is officially over." I took a nice long drink of water. "I need a nap first, though."

  And with that, I jumped over our pool of clothing and threw back the covers, snaking in to sleep.

   I was awoken by the best sensation between my legs and I looked down to see that Andrew had gone to work prepping me for the last go.

  "Morning."

  "What time is it?" I asked, trying not to budge as to enjoy myself properly.

  "Three. One last go so I can sleep suitably." By now, he bored me. Two gos and an orgasm were enough. He pummeled away into me, and without much enthusiasm, I wrapped my legs around him to allow better access. He had reached his peak and we were done. Afterwards, he was still horny, but I insisted upon at least getting my underwear back on before we did anything else, and he his, because I was _not_ prepared to do him any favors but to spite my would-be boyfriend.

  My fourth time around, my second partner, and already I found I'd have to use Andrew's advice, no matter what became of me. He ravished my neck, and finally bit, hard, before going back to sleep, his head between my breasts.

  "How classic." I muttered before trying to get back to sleep myself.

  Of course, Blaise had his connections and made his way into my room.

  "Clothes still on? My, my, my Andrew, I'm disappointed." He muttered to me. I rolled my eyes. "Malfoy'll be sending a wake-up call."

  "What?" I almost screamed in a whisper, almost jerking upwards and sending Andrew sleepily across the bed. 

  "Not personal, of course. Word has gotten around and he's sending his regards." Blaise laughed almost heartily, if he had one.

  "Not a Howler?"

  Blaise shook his head. "Breakfast."

  "Probably poisoned."

  "Probably Avery's. He likes you too much. You must be a scream in bed." He looked for my shoes. "I take it something I'll be hearing about on the field." He looked up from the pool of clothes on the floor. "So, what have you done?"

  I scowled. "Three times."

  Blaise almost chocked on a laugh. "Three? Wow, you _must_ be a scream in bed."

  "Can you leave please?" I hissed.

  "Aw, no thank you? Oh, _do_ know that your family is not pleased either."

  My eyes widened and I really, really, _really_ wanted to leave.

  Blaise sensed this, and I must have pulled at his heartstrings that I had in the dressing room only days before.

  He slowly helped me into my dress and located my personal belongings. "Let's go, pohpet."

  Blaise began explaining to me that the sting of Draco's rejection and coinciding possession of me might fade and that our relationship wouldn't be nearly as abusive.

  "Remember, pohpet, anything I ask of you will be a suggestion to cheer _you_ up. I can get myself out of my own messes, pohpet."

  I looked at him with the largest eyes filled with tears of grime, not embarrassment or shame. I was not embarrassed about what I had done, nor was I ashamed about what I had done. Who I had done it with, and how clumsy I had been about keeping it a secret, that was what filled me with the dirtiest feeling I had ever felt.

  "Blaise, there will be times when I will help you, but please, _please_, let me play the innocent darling to my house, to all houses, to everyone, perhaps, except Draco, because I want him to know how much I wanted to rip his heart out for leaving me void."

  "He does, pohpet, he does." Blaise replied as he slowly led me to my tower as the tears began to stream down my face silently.

  "You shall know. Andrew shall know. Draco shall know. That is it." I answered as we reached my portrait hole. I turned to him, smiling insincerely through my tears. "Showtime."

  I was silent upon my entrance into the Gryffindor Common Room. I knew that although it was probably four thirty in the morning that my brother would be waiting for me.

  I had lied to him many times before, I was used to not feeling guilty about it. Perhaps it was that I didn't want him owling my other brothers about it, perhaps I wanted him to love me, and perhaps it was just to liquidate my lie, but I looked up, my skirts gathered, and I just started crying.

  He led me to the sofa and let me cry into his arms. Through my choking sobs, I explained that I had wanted to do it wholeheartedly until the aftermath, when guilt began overriding everything good about it, spiting my neglectful boyfriend and proving everybody wrong about how confident I really was, and of course, the sex.

  My brother, surprisingly, did not grimace. I knew he wasn't a virgin, nor was he shacking up quite as often as he'd like either, but I suppose what he had done made him understand. He patted me affectionately and silently, promising that _he_ would not go ballistic on Andrew Avery, but warning me that Malfoy would not be quite as understanding.

  I smiled up at him after another sob, mascara streaming down my face.

  "My dear, you should know some Charms to handle that." He muttered, shaking his head and standing up, wiping it away for me. Of course I _knew_ them, they were simply more melodramatic.

  "Then you…you…you forgive me?" I asked meekly and he almost scowled.

  "Of course, you silly cow." He muttered and I almost tackled him into the fire.

  "Thank you, Ron, thank you so much!"

  And with that, he went upstairs.

   The next day I wore the flimsiest turtleneck I had, a sexy pale blue ribbed item that covered up my hickey in style. Ron was insistent about being with me the next day, and he brought along Harry and Hermione, while I brought Parvati and we sat, supporting Ravenclaw. Ron and his friends were screaming Draco's name enthusiastically, and to be honest with you, I think it was just in retaliation to what they knew about the 'Slytherin Set-up' as they had come to call it in their whispers.

  Blaise was my spy on the pitch, having acquired his Animagus after six years of persistent work to be one and buying his license with influence. He, an owl, flew right behind Madam Hooch as the captains, Draco and Andrew, shook hands.

  Andrew reached to touch his back with his free hand. "Aw, jeez, Madam Hooch, I've got the most unexplained pains on my lower back."

  He turned and flipped up his jumper and huge, heel-shaped welts made Madam Hooch and Draco's jaws drop. Blaise later confided in me that he now _knew_ I was a scream in bed.

  Later, Blaise also confided in me that Andrew suffered from food poisoning for the next week.

To be continued… 


	5. Gone Overboard

Disclaimer: This AU idea came to me as I sat there watching Cruel Intentions and playing Clue. Anything you don't recognize is mine besides the song.

And if I've gone overboard  
Then I'm begging you  
To forgive me  
In my haste  
When I'm holding you so girl,  
Close to me 

  I cannot possibly describe Draco and my reunion without a sheer wash of confusion. The next day, we went out to Hogsmeade together and we were silent. Entirely silent. It was almost eerie, how impersonal the whole process seemed.

  Of course we _did_ talk over lunch, I think merely to keep up the appearances of the lie. He asked me how my classes were and I of him, we made plans for our travels during the summer, and then we went shopping.

  Shopping had always been a private practice for us. We didn't speak, we merely flashed clandestine smiles at one another when we knew our fellow patrons and the shop clerks weren't looking. But now it was solemn and all too cliché. Draco sat patiently in the lobby of all the shops I entered, and waited until I was finished, and then purchasing the items I wished for.

  I almost let out a scream of frustration halfway into the afternoon. But afternoons simply weren't the proper place to let out a scream of frustration. These are preferably early in the morning, or halfway into a social evening.

  It was Sunday. Most people did not go out on Sunday, so we were able to keep fairly silent while still looking like the ideal couple.

  Draco fetched me a soda water from Honeyduke's, and my eyes raked the town square with a slightly less sparkling air. And that is when I spotted it. I reached for his hand; handholding had not been a practice that we had ever engaged in, pre-Andrew.

  He was, no doubt, surprised. He _had_ just managed to get all my shopping bags in one hand as to hand me my soda water. His hand was cold and clammy initially, but as I excitedly led him through town, he got more affectionate, squeezing it gently.

  Right as we got to the store I wanted to take him into, he pulled me back into a gentle kiss.

  "I know you didn't kiss the bastard because he would have been a lot less gloating and a lot more smitten with you on the pitch." He growled into my ear, intent on ravishing me right there in the street.

  I had better ideas.

  "Oh, come off it, Virginia, there is no way I'm going in there."

  "But Draco, it is only Suzette's. I promise you shan't die in there."

  "I might as well cut off the family jewels and sell them to Avery because I am _not_ going in there."

  "Stubborn, is he?" Someone asked behind me, and I turned to see Hermione, alone for once. I smiled at her.

  "Yes, just a bit." I answered. "But that can all be fixed."

  "Of course." Hermione retorted somewhat huffily, although she sent quite an encouraging grin to Draco. "You better keep her behaving, Ron's perfectly inclined on beating Avery to a bloody pulp and my, that'll be disgusting to shower off."

  "Although it won't stop you." I replied and she sent me another encouraging grin, nodding me into the shop.

  "What is _with_ you people today?" Draco muttered as I lead him in.

  A woman in lingerie answered his question.

  "Mints? Bath salts? Or something really naughty?" She asked, winking.

  "I think we'll just browse today, Nora." I answered. "Do take these bags to the back, will you?"

  I pulled a stunned Draco to the back of the store where I selected a particularly demure black silken dressing gown. "What do you think?" I asked innocently, pulling it up for him to see against my body.

  "Don't bother." He growled, and I looked into his eyes. A possessive, domineering side of him that he almost never showed in public and rarely showed me was taking over him and he inched closer. "How 'bout I get the mates out of the dorm?"

  His breath was so hot on my skin, I almost couldn't resist. But I pulled away. "I take it this one's a no."

  I had never made Draco very angry, I think. Not even my misdeeds in the past few days had angered him, I think, perhaps because he liked a woman with a taste for vengeance. What he disliked were men who took advantage of this.

  But right now, I think I made him slightly grumpy, if not angry.

  "You're a fucking tease, Rockford." He muttered as I began browsing through the shop. There were some playful outfits, but Draco, although I had only slept with him once, did not strike me as a playful kind of guy. He struck me as the kind of guy who liked to begin quite patiently, thinking he had complete control over the situation of undress, but then he'd lose control and hate that he did, ripping at your clothes for lack of control and for a bit of leverage.

  So flimsy was indeed a necessity.

  "Draco, darling, I must send you along with my purchases, you've nearly spent the whole of your allowance on me." I whispered quite snootily in a cooing voice that I knew annoyed him.

  "Mum will only be too pleased to replenish it, knowing I've spent it on you." He snarled, but obeyed my commands. "I'll get the mates out."

  I nodded as if I hadn't heard anything, and then proceeded to purchase a filmy pale blue bouncy baby doll set that barely did its job, and it was trimmed in feathers. It was practically perfect for winning over the heart of a diehard Ravenclaw.

  It should be noted that Ravenclaw kicked Slytherin's ass. And then some.

  I asked if I could change in the shop, then slipping my Hogwarts robes over my new purchase.

  I suppose you could say I took my own sweet time making my way back to the castle, greeting some of Draco's roommates on my way back to the castle, grinning merrily. I said the password at the portrait of the Grey Lady, and found my way to the sixth years' dorm.

  Let's just say, Draco was not pleased about the wait.

  I entered into a dark room and my eyes had to adjust to the lack of lighting. And out of nowhere, someone threw me onto a bed and even in the dark; I could see the curves of his face.

  "Someone's aggressive." I murmured and, upon slowly unbuttoning my robe, he answered me in a sneer.

  "You're damn right I am." He completely unbuttoned my robe and ripped it off of me, casting it aside. He looked down on me and smirked. "You have a way of personalizing your wardrobe, Virginia."

  At this, I almost cried. I had 'personalized' my 'wardrobe' just the other night for Avery.

  Now, he couldn't be in control. I couldn't let him without guilt overriding _everything_ wonderful about this moment.

  With strength I did not know I had, I flipped him over and started kissing him maniacally, and the face that had been so eager to tear my heart out moments before softened instantaneously.

  "Don't do this out of guilt, Virginia." He whispered, grasping me taking me into his arms. And I'm pretty sure he forgave me.

  And we didn't have sex.

  My figure had drooped immensely after he had removed the guilt selflessly from my mind, and he slipped me under the covers, undressing a little and joining me. I was shaking, in spite of the self-control I had learned and rejected in a rage of boredom just recently. He was being Mr. Chivalrous again, and I couldn't believe how silently he had forgiven me, how honestly he had let everything go, even his own desires.

  And I couldn't leave him. He cuddled me closer to him, his arms protectively embracing me and slowly, the shaking stopped.

  It was late, perhaps a few weeks later. My O.W.Ls were over and I had come home from a party in Hogsmeade after the Gryffindors had successfully won the Quidditch Cup after a long, harsh battle with Ravenclaw.

  Obviously, I was not spending the evening with Draco.

  Ron, after having a few butterbeers that were slightly stronger than usual, was telling a group of his friends quite loudly how proud he was of his sister for 'coming back from the dark side' having been raised 'spoiled', of course referring to the night of Andrew Avery.

  He sounded hopeful that I might stay with my brothers over the summer.

  Gaggles of Gryffindors began heading back to the Tower before curfew was over, and while Hermione managed to bring Ron home earlier, Harry had not snagged such a fortunate, comfortable walk back. In fact, he was 'stuck' with us; Parvati, Lavender, Dean, Seamus, Neville, a seventh year named Brittany and I. We were all laughing as we walked through the crisp night and my hair, let loose for once, whipped me in the face as I turned to make sure he was still with us.

  "Thinking, Harry?" I asked, almost giggling at the thought, a gust of wind pushing my dress and hair back.

  "Yeah." He didn't smile.

  "Not too good when you're pissed." Neville murmured and we all stepped back as he ran to the side of the road to puke.

  "You okay, Neville?" Seamus asked, jogging off to fetch his dorm mate.

  "He has a point. Thinking when you're pissed is a bad, bad idea. You do stupid things." I said honestly, although the one bottle of strong butterbeer 

  "I'm not pissed, okay?" He asked in a very flat tone. I raised my eyebrows and caught up with the group.

  "Alright." I muttered.

  We snuck into our tower carefully, and I headed to the kitchens to fetch a pitcher of water and a few glasses for those of us who were admittedly drunk unlike Mr. Uptight Potter. 

  And of course, none of them were nice enough to stick around when I nearly tripped into the Common Room. 

  "Fuck it." I muttered, pouring myself a glass of ice water. "A drink for a drink."

  "You're a liar." Someone muttered upon gently pacing into the Gryffindor Common Room.

  I looked up at the foot of the boys' stairs. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and I realized the fire and the scarlet surroundings must have made me look like an exploding sunrise.

  "Not exactly a red morning yet, Harry. Water?" I poured him a glass.

  "You're a liar." He repeated, throwing himself onto a sofa in front of the fire. I handed him the water, and sat down on the sofa, regardless of the lack of space, near his chest.

  "Why do you say that?" I asked after a moment, memorizing the curves of his dimly lighted face.

  "All that crap you dished out to Ron, it's a lie, I know it is." He repeated, sitting up to drink. We were a little too close for my comfort, so I stood up.

  "Who told you?" I asked, sipping my glass nervously.

  "Avery. And he was practically on his deathbed, so I know he wasn't lying. Of course, he's been perfectly recovered and glowers at me." Harry said, completely sitting up now and leaning forward on his thighs.

  "Because he was honest with you, yes, I get the same thing." I shrugged. "What's it to you?"

  "This bond between you and your brother is a lie. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" He asked this levelly, as if he knew my answer.

  I turned and my eyes glinted in the firelight. "The bond between my brother and I is, firstly, none of your business and secondly, _not_ a lie. I regret what I did. I regret that I hurt you and your precious house…" I began trailing off.

  "It is also your precious house, as hard as it is to believe." He spat softly. He looked up at me. "I was hoping you were at least happy. That at least he made you happy."

  No doubt who _he_ was.  "I was. Sorry, I mean."

  "And now?" Harry stood, ignoring my obvious wish for space and pouring his refill a little too closely to me.

  "Why do you care?" I asked venomously instead of retorting. A rage was building up inside of me and I was starting to think of myself as pathetic and wishy-washy. Just last month I had wanted to _kill_ Draco slowly for practically kidnapping my social status and thrusting me aside for his precious—whatever. I was just a possession. And now I had begged for forgiveness about my reply to it all. And Avery…Avery had treated me like a pawn, like a toy! And Harry had always worshipped me and suddenly he wasn't taking my crap anymore.

  "I just thought _you_ cared. You always play this silly little damsel in distress for your brother so he can love you for what you're not." He said softly after a moment, after he saw the string of emotions flash on my face.

  "He needs to be protected from the truth, Harry. He can't handle it." I answered meekly. I almost sobbed, and this time it wasn't an act for my brother who _did_ indeed love me for a lie. It may have been true somewhere inside of me, this innocence and poor little rich girl crap, but what he knew was such a hyperbole I wanted to rip my tongue out.

  "I'm really sorry, Gin." He whispered to me, and I was afraid he was about to take me into his arms as Draco usually had, not letting me see his face.

  I looked up at him in the most vulnerability I had let myself show…_anyone_. Honest vulnerability, that is.

  "Just a little nickname I've been kicking around the office. Your brothers…except for Ron always called you Ginny." He hugged me, and it was perhaps the least romantic gesture I had ever received from a non-familial-man.

  And it felt good.

  I wanted to ruin this moment; I wanted to try to seduce him. However, I found I could not. Harry stopped hugging me, we finished off the pitcher of water, and said goodnight.

  The next morning, I dressed in a sedate black suit and pearls and put my hair up. I sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, writing my letters. I had one for my late father's lawyer, one for Narcissa, one for Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George and an owl of instructions for Mrs. White upon what to do with my things. I also penned a quick, affectionate note to Tony. I arranged to stay in Parvati's dormitory in order to ensure that I studied for my O.W.Ls and avoided Draco. I stayed out of the social scene and soon after my last final; Draco stormed up to me as I sat amongst my brother's friends.

  "What the fuck is this? Are you trying to _embarrass_ me in front of the whole school?" He demanded, throwing a dirty rag in front of my face.

  I flipped the tabloid closed and raised my eyebrows apathetically at the headline. "Rockford Heiress Moves Out of Grimaldi Manor."

  Many of the Gryffindors had heard, of course, and they didn't care, except my brother. "Are you moving out, Virginia?"

  I nodded proudly. "I'm opening up Maxwell's townhouse again. There are so many guest rooms I'm quite sure all of you could move in, if necessary. Should Bella and Sirius decide to make it like rabbits in the kitchen and you decide it's not a proper place to eat any more."

  "Sweet fucking Jesus Christ, Virginia, everyone knows you're my girlfriend and all of a sudden you move out of _my_ house? It looks like we're not a couple!" Draco snapped, snatching the tabloid back from Parvati, who was very interested in a snapshot of Tony.

  "Hmmm. How about that?" I commented, trying to hide my smile.

  Angrily, without letting my brother or my friends come to my defense, Draco snatched me by the arm and pulled me straight out of the Great Hall.

  "Draco, that really hurts!" I shrieked, yanking my arm away from him. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

  "Wrong with me? What is wrong with _you_?" Draco demanded. "This trash is true?"

  "Yes! What's the point of me staying in that house? I think I'm perfectly capable of running a household and my brothers' lives, I've learned quite well from your mother." I said in a friendly and vapid tone. "Bill is getting into banking, both Charlie and Percy are making it in opposite sides of the spectrum of the Ministry, and Fred and George are entrepreneurs. Cedric's _practically_ my brother, and he's doing quite well and—well, I seem to have a knack for running great social households."

  Draco looked at me, and the floor, then back at me, and then he stared wordlessly at the floor. After shaking his head mechanically, he turned _back_ to me. "There IS a benefit of sleeping in the same house!"

  I couldn't help it. I started laughing. I started laughing maniacally. The shrieking laughing caused Ron, Harry, Hermione and Parvati to rush to the Entrance Hall in worry, and when they saw me doubled over and Draco's confused and somewhat frightened look, they too looked confused and somewhat frightened.

  By the time I stood all the way up, there was a crowd behind my friends and brother. But I didn't care. "Hmmm, the only benefit I can see about firstly, being your girlfriend, and secondly, living in a huge house in which you can get away with murder, obviously because your mother did, is sleeping together." I let out another shriek of laughter. "And wow…we don't do that."

  I looked him in the eye, my own pair dancing with mirth. He looked stormy, he looked embarrassed and he looked ANGRY.

  "What? Going to hit me, Draco? You haven't before, but you seem to be turning into your father even more every day. Girlfriend in name only? Check. Uncontrollable bursts of violence? On it's way. Pureblooded snootiness? Oh, definitely, you people should hear what he says about you behind your back. Lots of money? Right. Vapid, boring personality? I think you've got it all." I remarked cheekily, smirking at him and crossing my arms over my chest.

  "I am _not_ my father." Draco managed in little cold bursts.

  "Not yet." I retorted calmly. "I'm not your girlfriend, Draco, I'm your conquest." I rolled my eyes and made my way through the crowd.

To be continued…


	6. Touch Your Lips

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the idea. AU.

Touch your lips just so I know  
in your eyes, love, it glows so  
I'm bare-boned and crazy... for you.

  I opened the pale blue damask curtains forcefully, a dust cloud and burst of sunshine making the crisp, formal lines of my dark gray suit and the severe shape of my matching pumps somewhat less severe.

  I turned on the balls of my feet, the shuffling sound of my pumps against the border of dark, mahogany hardwood floors, sighing dismissively. "Of course, every room will need to be attacked by a team of house elves before I can even dream of trying to work on this place, Mrs. White. Of course, you know what's expected." I looked about the large blue drawing room, with its remarkably high ceilings, and rolled my eyes, drawling as affectionately as possible, "I want all critters and creatures out, everything removed of dust, and MAGICALLY wash all of the cloth items, the walls and floors need to be scrubbed, the fireplaces need to be cleaned, but leave my antiques and valuables alone." I broke into an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of my neck. "I can't believe it all stayed the same."

  "Your father didn't like to move anything." Mrs. White commented dryly. "Where will you be staying, Miss Rockford?"

  "Well, originally I had planned to room at the Diggorys. They're pleased I'm no longer staying at the Grimaldi Manor and, besides, it'll be their last summer housing Ron. They do worry about me." I paused, smiling somewhat wistfully before I shook my shoulders and returned to my senses. "But then the Diggorys decided to take Ron and Cedric on a vacation and sadly, their funds cannot provide me with the same pleasure, and they wouldn't let me pay my way. The boys have all moved out of Ms. Figg's apartment, her mother insisted upon it. Her mother was such a nice old lady, especially for a Squib, if Filch is any basis, they do tend to be bitter, so I've been arranged to stay with Sirius Black and his ward."

  "And who was that, my dear? Your friends' little custody battles do get so confusing." I had to admit. Mrs. White was a snobby, snobby Squib.

  "Mr. Potter, I presume? I don't know, after all, it is all so confusing." I retorted, rolling my eyes. "I'll still be in London, owl me when you know the house is prepared."

  Snob she may have been, she was quite professional and she loved me in her own, strange, impersonal way.

  She nodded and I headed toward the door, where my Portkey was waiting. Mrs. White handed me my valise and I hugged her coldly, smiling enigmatically and turning, disappearing into the lamp.

   I instantly felt overheated the minutes I stepped into Sirius's home. I couldn't see anything. There was fog…no, it wasn't fog, it was steam. Was I in a sauna? Did Sirius have a sauna? Is there a sauna in this story?

  I dropped my valise to the floor and instantly the roaring sound in my ears registered. Water.

  I was in someone's bathroom.

  …SHIT.

  There was so much steam I couldn't see the doors. I couldn't see anything but white shapes. I wandered aimlessly and slowly, bumping into the sink. I was tempted to wipe off the mirror to see who was in the shower, but I was lost and someone was taking a shower and I couldn't figure out where the door was.

  The water turned off.

  DOUBLE SHIT.

  A door that had been fogged up with steam slid open and the steam began to clear and I found myself staring into the brilliant green eyes of Harry Potter.

  TRIPLE SHIT.

   Harry's brow wrinkled at first, but then he broke into a grin, grabbing a towel before the steam disappeared completely, tucking in the top edge at his hip. A little low, don't you think? I was staring at his hip dumbfounded, and then my eyes slowly trailed up his skin to his magnificent smile.

  QUADRUPLE SHIT.

  "I take it Sirius forgot to fill out that paperwork? I reminded him." He said finally, gently moving past me to put on his glasses. The steam completely cleared and he picked up my valise and my lamp. I turned to face him awkwardly. "Let me get dressed and I'll—"

  Harry looked at me with a slightly amused, surprised look on his face. "Why are you so stiff, Ginny?" Harry smiled once more, slightly rolling his eyes, and disappearing out of one of two doors. The fact that I might have walked into the linen closet had I made myself determined enough to leave comforted me only slightly.

  He returned before I had a chance to open the medicine cabinet, dressed in a pair of loose khakis and a t-shirt that softly clung to him like a needy girlfriend. Harry laughed after giving me the once-over. "You look flustered."

  I frowned. "Do not."

  "You sure?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, and I nodded indignantly. "And I was just about to call you cute."

  "Good then." I said after a moment, frowning further still. He rolled his eyes and reached for my free hand, leading me through the door he had just come in from.

  It took me less than a second to figure out I was in the envied position of being a girl in Harry Potter's bedroom. The thought usually made me scowl; girls oohed and ahed when I went up to Ron's dorm to borrow something and some even asked me to get a souvenir. I rolled my eyes and instantaneously, the memories of being the envied visitor of the sixth years boys' dorm left as I suddenly felt hotter in this room than I did in the bathroom full of steam.

  Harry's room was quite a change from his dorm back at Hogwarts. Although both were a tad messy, he was a boy after all, the somewhat cozy antiques at Hogwarts were most definitely not Harry's style as the room was filled with chrome, gunmetal and dark blue metallic furniture, as well as jewel tone chairs and blankets. But besides the basics, Harry had no decorations and most of the floor and shelves were covered with full boxes. I shed my jacket nervously and complimented him on the place.

  "Yeah, I'm packing it up. Most of the place is packed up, actually." Harry grinned. "Sirius is getting married in August."

  My eyebrows raised in delight before they meshed into one. "I'm not…invading, am I?"

  "Nah, Sirius just won't be in that often. Besides, you're Ron's only sister. Couldn't have you kicked out onto the streets, could we now?" Harry laughed and someone popped their head into his doorway. I barely recognized them, but it didn't matter.

  The lanky boy merely nodded and grabbed three boxes before exiting. 

  "Don't mind him, he's not very friendly." Harry muttered. "He's Bella's cousin and he's the biggest grump I've ever met. I offered to do the moving myself, but he just sorta started and never stopped. I guess he's bored."

 "Or selling your stuff." I laid back on Harry's bed, the soft and gentle velvety texture that wasn't at all rich or heavy making me marvel. This couldn't be cotton. I closed my eyes; these were the only foreign sheets I had ever come in contact with that didn't make me shiver. I felt the weight shift on the bed and I turned, opening my eyes. Harry was leaning next to me, our four legs dangling off the edge of the bed, propping himself up on a bended elbow. "When's your place supposed to be done?"

  I shrugged, still relishing the softness of his sheets. "No idea."

  "Well, then I have you to myself for some time, huh?" He grinned and sat up. He stretched out a bit.

  "Um, I guess." I sat up, biting my lip and raising my eyebrows simultaneously. "Is Sirius home right now?"

  Harry shrugged and flopped back down on the bed. I joined him, staring up at the ceiling. You could see where posters had been put up.

  "Ginny?" He asked after a moment, and I turned my head to face him.

  "Yeah?" He was still looking at the ceiling, and he startled me when he turned his head to face mine.

  He studied my features for a moment, and suddenly reached a finger out to trace my jaw line. It was rough…a different sort of roughness than Avery's. Avery had an unpolished coarseness about him, while in contrast; Draco's hands had been all too silky. Harry's finger wasn't silky, but it was smooth.

  "Why do you look so different from the Weasleys?" My eyes narrowed in confusion.

  "What? What do you mean?"

  Harry gave me a soft, small smile, stroking my hair, implying with his gentle touch that my hair was different, then both of his hands cupped my face, noting wordlessly the evenness of my skin: the lack of freckles. He inched closer, blinking pointedly.

  "Thestral's milk. Maxwell's girlfriend fed me Thestral's milk. Maxwell was trying to be charitable, she wanted a publicity cow." I answered, noting how Harry hadn't made me tremble since I had arrived.

  "How does that make you feel…you know, that your beauty wasn't natural?" Harry asked me suddenly, and I stared at him intently, trying not to smile.

  "You're the first person to have ever asked me that." I turned my head, giggling. "It's sort of like permanent cosmetics. For a while it startled me; I had no identity of my own. But I am a Weasley. Just in different packaging…" I turned back to face him, staring at his chin. "It just took me a while to realize that."

  Harry nodded, his eyes meeting mine, a smile trickling into his bright green orbs and my own pleading silently for an answer. One hand came off my face and suddenly gripped the small of my back carefully, as if I might break. I closed my eyes, feeling almost helpless but strangely not vulnerable. And then he kissed me.

  It was a soft, lingering kiss.

  "I kind of like that you don't look like a Weasley." He said after a moment and I opened my eyes. "It'd kind of be like kissing Ron."

  I giggled in spite of what had just happened. Still, I had yet to quiver. Why was it that this—boy wonder, a boy I barely knew…why did he make me feel more comfortable than with Draco, who I'd known since I began my adolescence, or Avery, who I knew I'd probably never speak to again?

  Before I could get confused, Harry kissed me again. This time, a little more forceful, and open-mouthed, but it was still pleasant. In fact, it was perfect.

  "Why?" I asked, pulling away suddenly.

  "Because, little Miss Ginny Weasley…" He began, and he had a look in his eyes that he did not act upon; lust. Point for Mister Potter. "You are beautiful."

  "I know _that_." I said, rolling my eyes and sitting up.

  "No, you don't. Your Thestral beauty is not what I'm talking about. It's the emotion that flashes

in your eyes when you're confused or scared or happy. It's genuine." He sat up suddenly and

pulled me into another kiss, a swift, and playful one. My arms had somehow ended up around

his neck, but I couldn't face him when it was over. "You _are_ a Weasley in different packaging.

And in spite of what you've been through and what you've learned, you're strong and willing."

  I raised one eyebrow. "Alright?"

  He laughed once more and pushed me back onto the bed, arching over me, and there was 

something comforting in his expression. Perhaps it was the fact that it wasn't full of lust. It was

full of a happiness and zest and then I figured out he _wasn't_ kissing me because I was beautiful,

because I had curves or because I had money. He was kissing me just for the sake of kissing

me.

  "You are beautiful." He whispered in my ear between kisses; kisses that weren't hungry or

lingering or mysterious. He didn't just want me, the superficial and short desire that was

intertwined with the equally succinct and shallow attraction factor intrigue, he needed me.

  And I needed someone like him.

  But our semi-tryst was interrupted by the lanky grump coming in and glaring at me, as if I was

corrupting Harry or something. The conception is understandable, but honestly, I hadn't kissed

_him_. But Harry inched away from me whilst the other boy moved about, as if he had something

to be ashamed of. My heart sank and a spiked fence began to spring up around it.

  My eyes must have blazed dangerously, because both of them suddenly stopped what they

were doing. I flashed them both a sarcastic smile and left the room abruptly, muttering

something about saying hello to Sirius.

  I rushed to a bathroom first, looking through the medicine cabinet desperately and finding what

I wanted. I stuffed a long, glittering tube between the bottom of the door and the floor and began 

to cry miserably.

  How could he do this? A man that had been in my life for a relatively short time, with no

possible perks, no intrigue, no mystique…how could I want him so much he made me cry?

To be continued.


	7. AUTHOR MESSAGE

Hey, guys…I'm sorry I gave up on you. I just didn't have the heart to continue writing, due to some recent and tragic circumstances. However, if you're looking for similar writing, Mandy2 has really come a long way since _The Gilded Lily_ with this fic of hers called High Cheekbones. You should really check it out.


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